


Number Nein

by ChrisWrites



Category: Senki Zesshou Symphogear
Genre: Clones, F/F, Pre-Series, based almost entirely around headcanons honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5947210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisWrites/pseuds/ChrisWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elfnein, aka Scrap Material #11, had ten predecessors that assisted Carol over the past several centuries, and were the only witnesses to her fall.</p><p>May stay as a one-shot, but will probably turn into a dumping grounds for more pre-GX clone fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Number Nein

**Author's Note:**

> Art of all clones 1-11 by @DLanon as part of an informal collab (posted with her permission): https://embed.gyazo.com/94fdb34be927c0819ab9c79a5adfe15b.png
> 
> \---
> 
> Carol awakens her fourth assistant, Viernein, after recovering from her own most-recent death. Based on a request prompt from tumblr: "Autolatry - The worship of one’s self".
> 
> (This just leads up to sin honestly like the entire last third wasn't planned to happen when we started headcanoning for clones 1-10)

She was born, but at the same time, already existed for a century or more. As if awakening from a long sleep, but at the same time, that sleep began minutes ago. Memories flooded her mind one after the other, but without needing to sort through them in order, she was familiar with every one.

“Are you awake?” The woman in front of her, recognized as almost her mirror image despite never having seen her own face, was simultaneously a stranger, a long-time friend, and herself. Those memories told her that she was named Carol, and she herself was a homunculus assistant.

“Yes.” She sat up from the table, rubbing between her eyes to quell a headache. “What happened?”

“Dreinein was gone when I came back.” The explanation was enough; her most recent memories were of Carol being taken under accusations of witchcraft, and in the time between her inquisition and her resurrection, her own – Dreinein’s – energy fading away.

“Then, I’m….”

“Viernein.” Carol helped her off the worktable and onto her feet, functional but not steady. “You’ll need the day to recuperate, but I ask that you help as soon as you’re able.”

Pressing at the front of all other memories were those of their father, the primary motivation to do that research in the first place. But Carol was right; she would need some time for her mind to settle, and to put some steadiness in this brand-new body’s limbs. However, there were gaps in her memories that she already recognized.

“What happened to you?” Dreinein was left alone for some time, and while Viernein’s memories were a mix of Carol’s and her previous incarnations’, there were still questions left unanswered.

“It takes some time for me to comfortably move into a new body, and for you as well.” She paused briefly. “I don’t know when exactly I died last, or when I lost Dreinein, but it’s been at least two weeks.”

Viernein took a moment to process that information, that Carol could openly talk about her own most-recent execution, and that she couldn’t easily count the number of times Carol had been forced into the next body in the cycle. “Make yourself comfortable,” Carol commanded before leaving the room, leaving Viernein to sift through what she now knew to gather some information on what was going on. 

* * *

It didn’t take long for Viernein to grasp the situation and continue the research where Carol and Dreinein had left off. But there were significant pieces missing in her memories. She plucked up the courage to ask Carol something so personal.

“What happened to Zweinein?” she asked one day, she herself copying fading notes into a fresh new book, while Carol weighed and measured ingredients into separate containers.

Without pausing in her work, Carol explained. “I was caught, and she was found. Neither of us survived that time.”

“But after that.” Her memories ended abruptly after the initial accusations, with the inquisition at their door. “What happens after?”

“You don’t need those memories.” Carol still remained focused in her work, placing almost perfect measurements onto the scale each time.

“But what happened-”

“You _don’t need_ those memories,” Carol repeated, more forcefully this time. Her work slowed. “What happens…it’s not good. No one should know about it firsthand, I’m only protecting you.” Viernein’s memories did include the praying that each time Carol was taken in would be the time it got easier to handle , which fueled her curiosity further.

“So then why do you retain those memories?” If they were so bad that no one should know, she wondered why Carol kept the burden.

“They carry over when I move into a new body, since the inquisitors are my last memories before I can alter anything.” She sighed and moved onto a new ingredient. “And to change that, it would be denying what happened to Papa.”

Despite having not personally tried to push forward, Viernein knew it would be futile to insist she share the burden. However, there was ground that hadn’t been broken before her. “And what happened to Ellen?”

For the first time, Carol totally froze, placing her hands back on the table. “You have the same memories of her that I do.”

“But I don’t know what happened.” By a stroke of impossible luck, months or even a year before Viernein existed, Carol had found Ellen, a girl who asked to court her and was willing to keep their relationship under strict wraps. A century or more after their father’s death, Viernein wasn’t sure how long it had been, Carol finally emotionally let an outsider in.

“What exactly do you know?” Scale abandoned, Carol began flipping through the pages of a nearby book, seemingly with no page in mind to end on.

“That you opened up to her about your goal to create miracles. And…that she reported you to the church for practicing witchcraft.” Carol looked at her with prying eyes. “That’s where your memories end.”

“She was taken into questioning and found guilty beside me.” Carol turned back to the book, staring emptily into the binding with no pretense of having her focus elsewhere. “That’s just what the priest told me, but…I checked her house before I moved cities. Her family was in mourning, and she wasn’t there, he must have been telling the truth.”

“And you blame yourself,” Viernein stated, having enough recollection of the situation to be sure of that.

“If I waited to tell her, we would both still be alive.”

“But you don’t know-”

“I didn’t create you to question me,” Carol snapped. Viernein recoiled and shut her mouth in shock; the Carol in her memories didn’t lose her temper or exert this kind of control so readily. “You were assigned to assist me. Return to those notes.”

Not out of a need to follow the command but to soothe Carol’s rising stress levels, Viernein quietly said, “Of course,” and turned back to the empty book. 

* * *

Carol awoke before Viernein in the morning, immediately resuming her work from the previous late night. This newest homunculus had barely been around for a week, and she was already causing her trouble. Viernein was too inquisitive, too energetic, too ready to pause her work to question Carol’s motivations.

The memory implantation must have faltered, because they should have had the same motivations. To fulfill their father’s dying wish and understand every mystery the world had to offer. Carol had already established that Viernein had those vital memories of Isaac, there was no mistake made there.

Several days had passed since her probing questions first started, but today was the first day that she worked quietly. Carol kept some attention focused directly on her, but she diligently copied and sorted notes like her previous incarnations had. It was too early to be sure, but perhaps her questioning streak had ended and she was ready to take this seriously.

“Do you want dinner yet?” It had was getting late into the evening, and Carol had only just realized how deep she’d been into her work.

“We can.” Viernein stood and stretched, but crossed over to where Carol was standing instead of moving towards the kitchen. “I had an idea though, can it wait a little longer?”

Carol used to skip eating for days because of research, before she started using homunculi to help; if Viernein potentially made progress, it could wait for any length of time. “What did you discover?”

“Sit on the desk,” Viernein commanded. At her questioning glance, Viernein insisted, “Trust me.” She did so, mind open to this new development, and obeyed when Viernein said, “Now close your eyes.”

Before she could comprehend the actions and pull away, she felt an arm wrap around her upper body, another moving behind her head to keep her still, and something soft pressed against her mouth. Her eyes flew open at the sensation, and she couldn’t pull away even when she jerked backwards. Viernein was _uncomfortably_ close, eyes half lidded just centimeters away from hers.

At her protesting noises, Viernein pulled back, carefully not releasing her. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“What are you _doing_?” Leaning back provided no escape, and Viernein was blocking the path in front of her.

“I’m helping you forget.” She closed in on her again, pressing a trail of kissing from her cheek, down her neck, aiming for her collarbone. Between kisses, she spoke, “You can trust yourself. You can trust _me._ ”

Carol was frozen not only in shock, but a sudden desire to not let this end. Rewriting the memories of Ellen’s touch with Viernein’s, someone she could trust unconditionally to not betray her. She was right, she could trust herself, she and the animated bodies were the only people thus far to not react with horror at their work.

When she released some of the tension from her shoulders, Viernein pulled away from her neck. “Do you get it now?” Carol nodded once, but didn’t move towards her. “I need this. I know you need this. Why can’t we do it together?”

It was true she’d been craving that intimacy she’d lost so recently, but that need would have passed with time. She didn’t predict that the next in the line of homunculi would have shared her feelings and acted on them in this way. While she was still processing that thought, Viernein grew impatient and returned to her lips; her tongue ghosted over them, and she opened her mouth to accept her.

The arms holding Carol released her, but they moved to her shoulder, urging her downwards. She followed, laying across a least one open book and her reed pen, and knocking her scale over along with several jars she’d just finished sorting through. The sound of broken glass didn’t follow, it could be ignored.

Viernein was fully on top of her now, advancing further into her mouth. It was a strange feeling; she’d felt her own mouth her whole life, but exploring it from an outside perspective made it seem unfamiliar. Curiosity bolstering her bravery and desperation, all lingering thoughts of resistance faded into a continued wanting.

For just a moment Viernein released her, standing upright to pull her shirt off and swooping back down on Carol in an instant. Hers was the next to go, discarded to the floor before she could argue. She was silenced by Viernein’s mouth against hers, swallowing every complaint before it could form.

“We’ll both forget,” Viernein promised, one hand running across Carol’s bare skin, and the other tightly lacing their fingers together. “You don’t have to alter your memories, we can make new ones.”

She could lose herself to those words, just vulnerable enough that a sincere-sounding promise could make it through her exterior. It helped that Viernein must have known exactly what got her worked up from those secondhand memories, Carol’s higher thought functions unravelling under a persistent tongue and adventurous hand. She found herself tracing circles against Viernein’s back, hand faltering from its path at every shiver, which were becoming more frequent.

Time lost its meaning as they both moved further, Carol following Viernein’s lead, who was more willing to blaze this path. She’d adjusted to seeing another imperfect copy of herself working with her, but to be handled like that, see herself like that, it was a different story. However, not something she recoiled against and was eager to drop.

When she finally got her breath back, Carol squinted at Viernein. “I never made you for this.”

“You did give me full autonomy though.” She ran the back of her fingers along Carol’s cheek teasingly, helping her back to her feet like she had done for her, her first day alive.

What was assumed to be a one-time thing would later prove to become a regularity, finding comfort in each other – just herself – to keep her sanity intact and remind her that not every person would turn on her so readily.

**Author's Note:**

> Also this chapter now featuring an art by DL at http://dlartistanon.tumblr.com/post/139335103933/can-i-get-something-illustrated-from-my


End file.
